After the Party Read online

Page 15


  “Mrs. Chesterfield, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Yes, will do.”

  “Yes! It will be my privilege.”

  “A privilege for which you will be paid. Oh, and that reminds me. Sandra mentioned that you were looking for a reputable company that rents tents, tables and chairs. I have the number for the one we use every year. We’ve never had reason to complain. They always set up and break down on time.”

  “Great! Thanks.”

  “And I’ve jotted down some other resources you might want to consider for that job or others. Caterers, disc jockeys, bands and the like. Let’s go into the house—”

  “Oh, no. Later is fine. Really. I don’t want to take you away from your guests.”

  “It’s no trouble. Besides, later I won’t remember my name much less where I put my notes,” the older woman added on a laugh. She tucked her arm through Ella’s. “You don’t mind, do you, Chase? I’ll bring her right back. I promise.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Cole and I will keep him company while you’re gone,” Sandra said.

  * * *

  As Chase watched Ella walk away, the guilt he’d been keeping at bay rushed in for a vicious attack. She was amazing. At his uncle’s house, her instincts had proved spot-on time and again. On her own, she’d reached many of the same conclusions the veteran planner he’d hired behind Ella’s back had shared. And, she’d proved far more creative. Sandra’s mother’s vote of confidence only made him feel even worse for doubting Ella.

  “You look like you need a drink, Chase,” Cole said.

  What he needed was to come clean, but when? How?

  “I can recommend the daiquiris. They’re excellent.” Sandra took a sip of the one in her hand. The glass included a skewer full of fruit and a dainty paper umbrella.

  “The beer is ice cold,” Cole supplied on a chuckle as he nodded to his bottle.

  “Sounds good.”

  Sandra rolled her eyes before saying, “I’ll be right back.” She got even by handing her fru-fru drink to her boyfriend. “Hold this and keep Chase company.”

  While she was gone, another couple stopped to talk to Cole. The man was tall, athletic, with a smile that belonged in an advertisement for teeth whitening. The woman was classically pretty and reed-thin. Her honey-blond hair was stick straight and pulled back from her oval face by a ribbon headband. She wore canvas sneakers, khaki walking shorts, a pink sweater set, pearls and an air of superiority.

  Her clothing and accessories were prep-school chic, exactly the sort of outfit that complemented her boyfriend’s tame attire. Until recently, Chase had been a fan of the look. Lately, however, he’d grown fond of animal prints, bright colors and dangerously high heels.

  It wasn’t until Cole made the introduction that Chase realized who they were: Bradley and Bernadette. Ella’s ex and ex-stepsister. God help him. There was no way to make a graceful escape now. He thought longingly about the beer Sandra had gone to fetch. What he would give to have it in hand since he had a bad feeling he would need it to get through the next several minutes, especially if Ella returned.

  It wasn’t like Chase to draw comparisons, but he couldn’t help doing so. And he didn’t like what he concluded. He seemed an awful lot like Bradley. They probably employed the same tailor, visited the same barber. Hell, they probably had the same handicap in golf. Was that why Chase appealed to her? A replacement for the man who’d dumped her? Ella had claimed that she was over Bradley, that it had never been as serious on her side as it had seemed to be on his. That while everyone else had been sure they’d been heading to “I do,” she’d never shared their certainty. But...Suddenly, the very casualness with which she approached her relationship with Chase began to chafe.

  As for Bernadette, she was nothing like Ella. They were polar opposites in fact, not only in the way they dressed and wore their hair, but how they comported themselves. Ella was vivacious, gregarious, an extravert. Bernadette, meanwhile, whose mere posture oozed self-importance, came across as not only conceited, but decidedly dull.

  “This is Chase Trumbull,” Cole said, completing the introduction.

  Bradley took the name in stride, shaking Chase’s hand. Meanwhile, his fiancée’s eyes lit up like twin Christmas trees.

  “Chase Trumbull,” she repeated slowly. “My mother mentioned running in to you not long ago at The Colton. You were having dinner with my stepsister, Ella Sanborn. Mother said you had hired Ella to plan a party. I hope you got your money back.”

  Droll laughter followed.

  “Money’s worth, you mean,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I think you meant to say, you hoped I got my money’s worth. And, yes, I did. Ella did an outstanding job. Several of my guests asked for her card.”

  Okay, only one and it was Elliot, but the white lie was warranted.

  “I’m glad for Ella,” Bradley put in. “She’s had a rough time of it.”

  Despite his defense, maybe even because of it, Chase wanted to plow his fist into the guy’s face. After all, part of Ella’s rough time could be laid at the toes of the man’s shiny penny loafers.

  “Bradley!” Bernadette gasped.

  “Bradley’s right. It’s not her fault that her father’s name got dragged through the mud,” Cole added. He had drained his beer during the exchange and was now sipping from Sandra’s daiquiri.

  “My stepsister is hardly a charity case.”

  “Ella’s no charity case, I agree. But I have to correct you on another matter.” And by correct, Chase meant put Bernadette in her place. “Ella is no longer your stepsister.”

  Bernadette’s eyes narrowed but she rallied quickly. “That’s right. And, thank God. You know who her father is, right?”

  “Oscar Sanborn.” Chase nodded. “The man is a legend.”

  “You mean a pariah. My mother had the good sense to leave him after he was indicted.”

  “On charges for which he was later cleared.”

  “Oscar was lucky,” she sneered.

  “More like innocent.”

  It came as no surprise that the distinction made little difference to Bernadette. She said, “Either way, he’ll never work on Wall Street again. And his reputation is toast. My mother left before he could ruin hers.”

  “For better or worse, richer or poorer. Vows can be so damned inconvenient,” Chase said dryly.

  Cole started coughing, although his smile made it clear he was really camouflaging a laugh. Bernadette wasn’t fooled. She looked as if she could have cheerfully gouged out his eyes before moving on to Chase’s.

  “Ella is a pariah, too.”

  “Which was why old Brad here pulled a disappearing act, too,” Chase retorted.

  “Hey—” the other man said only to be cut off by his fiancée.

  “He traded up. Poor Ella,” Bernadette purred with far more glee than sympathy in her tone. “She can’t get invited to the A-list parties so now she is trying the backdoor approach. Reinventing herself as a party planner is creative, I will give her that, but please. She’s no party planner.”

  “She’s doing a credible imitation,” Chase shot back. And she was, which made his duplicity all the more unpalatable.

  Cole, trying to salvage the situation or at least keep it from deteriorating any further, tried to change the subject.

  “How do you feel about horses, Chase? I own a couple of thoroughbreds, including a yearling that shows real promise on the track.”

  “Bradley is looking to purchase a foal sired by Peerpoint’s Return. He placed in the Preakness last year and finished fourth in the Derby the year before that,” Bernadette inserted importantly. “With the right trainer, Bradley thinks Peerpoint’s Return could have done better.”

  “Really?” Chas
e replied. He was supposed to be impressed. That was what she expected. He’d been around enough people like Bernadette to understand that. Hell, he’d dated enough women like her. Women who liked to drop names and who used others to elevate their social stature.

  More than ever, Chase appreciated Ella’s authenticity and her sense of humor, which she was willing to direct at herself on occasion.

  “Can I give you some advice?” he said to Bradley.

  “Advice?”

  Chase shook his head. “No, I guess it’s really more like an observation.” He leaned in close to be sure he had the other man’s full attention. It was merely a bonus that Bernadette leaned in, as well. “You bet on the wrong horse.”

  “What?” Bradley said at the same time Bernadette sputtered incredulously, “I...I... You can’t speak to me that way. Bradley, you’re not going to let him speak to me that way, are you?”

  Chase answered for him. “You should have paid attention, Bernadette. Did he speak up on Ella’s behalf when people started saying hurtful things?”

  “That’s not the same.”

  “Horse of a different color?” Chase shook his head. “But you both deserve each other. Excuse me.”

  He spied Ella through the crowd. She was a welcome sight. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the feelings she inspired in him, but he couldn’t deny them. The only thing tempering his reaction was guilt. He gave in to the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

  “Wow,” she murmured as he drew back. Out of deference for their surroundings, he’d kept the kiss short. “What was that for?”

  “Do I need a reason?” he asked.

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him back for another quick lip-lock. Afterward she murmured, “Neither do I.”

  “You’re special, Ella.”

  He’d intended the words as a compliment, but she frowned.

  “Uh-oh, something really is wrong. Are you...dumping me?”

  “What? No! Why would you say that?”

  “Whenever someone calls you special, especially someone you’re dating. Not that we’re really a couple—”

  “We’re a couple,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “And I’m not dumping you.”

  “Oh.”

  Chase framed her face with his hands. “And you are special, Ella. Special, amazing, gorgeous, funny—”

  Her lips curved. “Don’t forget smart.”

  “I was getting to that.” He smiled, too, before pulling her close.

  “I didn’t hear a sexy in there,” she murmured against his cheek.

  “That’s a given.”

  “You’re special, too,” she whispered. Her breath tickled his ear when she added, “I’ll show you exactly how special later tonight.”

  He didn’t point out that she would be staying over at Sandra’s parents’ house. It was her words, the promise behind them, that touched him in a way no mere sexual fantasy could.

  Sandra came up then with his beer.

  “I understand from Cole that I missed quite an exchange while I was off getting this,” she said with a grin as she handed Chase the bottle.

  “I’m really sorry about that. I should have kept my big mouth shut.” To Ella he said, “I just had the displeasure of meeting Bradley and Bernadette.”

  “Oh, God!” She glanced around. “I was really hoping that with as many people as are here, we wouldn’t run into them.”

  “No such luck, I’m afraid.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Was it bad?”

  “That depends on who you ask,” Sandra supplied. She rose up on tiptoe and kissed Chase’s cheek. “That’s for being a white knight.”

  “Ella hardly qualifies as a damsel in distress,” Chase argued.

  He meant it, too. He’d never met a woman more capable of taking care of herself, even if her methods were unconventional. But being capable didn’t mean she couldn’t also be vulnerable. She could be used, hurt. She had been. Just as she had been underestimated by a lot of people, present company included. Chase’s biggest worry was that he would hurt her, too.

  “Am I missing something?” Ella wanted to know.

  Sandra ignored the question. “You’re right, Chase. Our Ella can save herself. She’s proved as much more than once during the past few years. Still, it’s nice to know someone has her back for a change. So thanks.”

  Not sure how to reply, Chase sipped his beer.

  “White knight, hmm?” Ella said.

  He shrugged, uncomfortable with the title. “I gave it my best shot.”

  To Sandra, Ella said, “We can’t stay long.”

  Both of them gaped at her.

  “But you were going to spend the night,” Sandra reminded her.

  “I know. Change of plans.” Ella winked. “I promised Chase I was going to show him something.”

  Sandra’s expression morphed from confused to knowing. “I bet you did.”

  * * *

  By the time they’d reached the city, the rain that was predicted for the evening had started to fall.

  Chase circled the block three times without finding a place for his car. When he reached the front of her building a fourth time, he double-parked in front of the entrance.

  “You can’t park here,” Ella told him.

  “I just did.”

  “But you can’t. You’ll get ticketed or, worse, your car will be towed.”

  Neither of her dire predictions appeared to have any effect on Chase’s decision. For a man who generally colored inside the lines, he suddenly seemed willing to break form. He got out of the car, came around to her side with an umbrella. White knight, Sandra had called him. Ella agreed, and not only because of this gallant gesture. She might not need saving, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a man who would go to bat for her.

  Huddled together under the umbrella, they hurried to the door. Under the awning, she turned.

  “Go back and move your car.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the car.”

  “A man who doesn’t give a damn about his car? Be still my heart,” she teased. Then, “Really, Chase, you should move it.”

  “After,” he said. “You promised to show me something.”

  He took the keys from her hand, unlocked the door and followed her inside.

  “I wish I lived on the first floor,” she muttered as they started up.

  “I don’t know. I have a new appreciation for stairs.”

  “You...what?” She glanced over her shoulder and understanding dawned. His gaze was on her butt.

  “This must be how you stay so toned.”

  “It’s an excellent cardio workout,” she agreed. “Especially if you take the steps at a jog, and it’s a lot cheaper than a gym membership.”

  It was her turn to take in his physique. Despite the umbrella’s semi-protection, his white shirt was plastered to the contours of an impressive chest and rock-solid abs. She couldn’t wait to peel it off him.

  Suddenly energized, she took off.

  “Hey!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”

  Ella’s husky laughter rang out, echoing down the stairwell, before she called over her shoulder, “Seeing if you can keep up!”

  Halfway up the first flight, she glanced back. She hadn’t heard any footsteps behind her. She figured Chase had decided she was crazy. But he was grinning—grinning!—and looking hot despite his soggy clothes.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked.

  “Just giving you a head start.” He nodded to her feet. “It’s only fair given those heels.”

  “I don’t expect special treatment, but I’ll take it.” Feeling equal parts ridiculous and turned on, she continu
ed up.

  This time, Chase followed fast on her heels. She could hear him coming, the leather soles of his shoes slapping the risers with rhythmic force. The sound was exhilarating and she hoped indicative of what was to come.

  Laughter bubbled out when she reached the third landing. Before she could start up the final flight, however, Chase stole her breath by wrapping his hands around her waist and hauling her backward. His body was hard against hers. Steamy from the combination of heated skin and sodden clothes. His fingers found the hem of her dress and began working it up her thighs. A moan escaped when he reached the band of her panties.

  “My apartment—”

  “Too far,” he groaned.

  He had a point.

  Ella had never had sex in a stairwell, though she’d fantasized in great detail about doing the deed in an elevator. But that wasn’t what gave her heart a start. Chase, Mr. Conservative, was flouting convention in ways she hadn’t dreamed him capable.

  “You’re full of surprises,” she told him.

  “Just wait.”

  And with that he proceeded to prove his point.

  TWELVE

  Chase woke up smiling the following morning and not only because of the naked woman whose leg was tossed over both of his.

  He replayed the events of the previous evening. Sex in a stairwell? That wasn’t like him. Neither were the scenes in his dining room and office, but damned if he could find fault with the outcome.

  He glanced around for a clock, but couldn’t find one, which came as no real surprise. Ella was the sort of person who ran on her own time. That should annoy him, would have if she didn’t get things done when they needed to be done. And look sexy doing it. He found himself smiling again.

  Ella moved, and her thigh slid up his legs. Chase’s grin gave way to a groan. Would he ever get enough of her? Did he want to?

  “Good morning,” she murmured, pushing hair out of her eyes. On a throaty chuckle she added, “Someone’s wide awake.”

  “I was just thinking about last night,” he replied.

  “Yeah? What a coincidence. She pushed to a kneeling position on the lumpy futon mattress. The pose, along with her tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, were the stuff of fantasies. And that was before she straddled him. “So was I.”